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Andias
=Appearance= A solid strongly built man, more so than even your average Cimmerian. His frame, although light bulk wise compared to others, speaks of near unspeakable savage strength. Despite his profession, and his past the scars of his life are barely visible upon his flesh most of which have healed over time, the only one that has remained are the scars across his cheek, cut by poison tipped nails of his Stygian mistress… but that’s a tale for another time. Hair of midnight black, as if the sky itself was absent of the stars and the moon… eyes of molten gold. Those eyes scream murder, madness, savagery and yet tell of wisdom beyond his years. By standards of most, Andias his a handsome man… his strong features normal for Cimmerians, yet the exotic color of his eyes spark distaste, fear, and curiosity in the hearts of many. His most predominate feature, the eyes of a wolf who has seen much in his life time. His clothing is always light, disliking the heavier gear most wear. It impeded movement and makes sounds when stalking, the clinking of chain linked armor… or the non flexible plates of full plate. No, leathers and fur’s will do just fine for one that knows the meaning of “kill or be killed.” =Personality= Andias is an… odd fellow to say the least. Extremely laid back and speaks with a calm tone in all situations rarely ever getting excited. This of course is totally contradicting to the aura about his person, thick and choking the smell of death so strong even the most hardened of warriors tend to curl their nose up to him. Hazy like the mist of the mountains, and crimson the color of blood. Andias is a killer, a slayer of men, of beasts and of anything in between. Like any true Cimmerian he can and will use the strength given to him at birth to overcome any challenge placed before him. This is only part of the Phantom Wolf however, for deep within himself, locked away by heavy mental chains and bars. Tucked deep within his very core is madness, insanity and carnage in its purest form. Andias is a berserker, more animal then human… so much so that when his eyes flash murder, his bloodlust begins to leak out. Instinctively even the most furious animal’s step back… hardened warriors shake in fear, or excitement if one stands upon his pedestal of power. A Killer in its purest form, death himself knows his mighty scythe is of no use to this mans madness, that inhuman drive to survive and life surpasses even death. Loyal, Andias has a tendency of repaying debts owed in full to those he call friends or comrades in arms. Although he doesn’t see himself to be a leader, some… those who have seen the darkness on the other side, those who have fallen to the lowest point in their lives see something in him. Something that gravitates them pulling them closer into his orbit. They follow him, follow his strength and in turn realize their own true strength and fury inside them. =History= }|{ The Beginning }|{ Andias’ story is a simple one, one that has happened to many a child in his generation both before and after. His tribe destroyed by the might of the Vanir and their Ymir brethren. The men were killed, the women raped, and the children sold off in slavery or killed used as targets by the red haired bastards. Andias was one of the lucky ones if you can call it that. Sold to a rich Stygian sorceress, probably beautiful too in the eyes of any adult man but to Andias she was nothing more than a haggard witch that chained him downs in hopes to control him. This sorceress, enjoyed Andias’ spirit, that fiery thing that burned within him that told any that looked at him he would not be broken, he would not sit down and take a beating. No, he would bite the hand that attempted to feed him within an instant. Independent and strong, knows what he wants and knows the strength in his although young arms could grasp whatever he pleased. And this Stygian woman used that to her advantage. She tortured Andias, mentally and physically enjoying the fact that he would not be broken. A sadist that enjoyed the pain of others and enjoyed Andias the most because he endured everything she threw at him. He was more than just her focus for torment, for her sadistic pleasures. Oh no Andias was also the object of her lusts… in which she fulfilled as often as possible, so much so that there were days Andias couldn’t walk let alone perform for her in bed. Night after night, day after day, hour after hour she would use him and use him until she had her fill discarding him until she was ready for more. The years of torment had finally broken Andias’ mental stability… he had gone mad, gone quiet… that once furious fire that burned within him seemed to turn cold… quieter… crueler. One night, as the Stygian hag was enjoying herself with Andias’ flesh, clawing across his cheek with nails sharper than any blade and dipped in the venom of snakes. The lad struck with the fury of the mightiest Cimmerian warriors. A dagger, carelessly near the edge of the bed had found its way into his hands and then into her chest, just between her breasts. The youth’s face twitched, his golden eyes burning with a desire for her blood. So shocked she couldn’t scream, at least not until Andias rammed the blade deeper twisting it all the while making sure her magic wouldn’t heal her… making sure her very spirit would die. Backwards the witch fell, still warm with her passions and leaking their mixed fluids Andias dashed from the chambers, and disappeared into the night… never to be seen again… }|{ Birth of the Phantom}|{ Maybe later ;)